


All Yours

by roxymissrose



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M, Prostitution, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-15
Updated: 2011-05-15
Packaged: 2017-10-19 10:05:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roxymissrose/pseuds/roxymissrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To paraphrase Johnny Mercer: When an irresistible force meets an immovable object, something's going to give--</p><p>originally posted 1-03-2009</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Yours

Lex wasn't really surprised that Gotham hadn't changed much since the last time he'd been there…it was only three years past, cities didn’t change that much but….

He had no idea where to go, really, and no one to go there with. He admitted, he was feeling a little sorry for himself. It was Christmas, or nearly so, and Dad was gone…well, that was kind of a gift to be treasured, wasn't it? Still…he was rich and not bad looking and he knew that people enjoyed fucking him, he made it his business that they would and yet, here he was alone. Again. He sighed. He really needed to figure out just how to get past fucking and into relationship…but then again that sort of thing demanded time, and that was something he'd always been sure he had little of….

He inhaled, exhaled--in with the good air, out with the whining and self-pity…and God, years later and Gotham still stank. Come to think of it, last time he'd been here, he'd been alone. Ran away to Gotham. Lex smirked, he'd run away from Lionel Luthor, who flew back and forth around the *globe* like he was going to pick up a paper at the corner and he'd…he'd run…Lex laughed…all the way to *Gotham* to try and get away from his dad.

Idiot.

He walked along the dark sidewalk, just a short jog from the parking lot to the club, and his mind wandered back to that time. Dad had found him pretty quickly but then again, he had left a pretty big damn wake in passing, hadn't he?

Lots of Luthor money had greased lots of palms in those days. Lex figured it had to count in the good column that he'd made it possible for dozens of families to have an even Merrier Christmas that particular year….Lex was willing to bet some broken bones had also been involved. He licked the little slick place on his upper lip. He'd been so fucked up, so incredibly fucked up he hadn't even been sure, when Dad broke in the room, where he'd been. He'd just woken up in some hotel, some room somewhere plastered over with lots of glitter and gold. He'd been happy and then suddenly there he was, Daddy Luthor, in all his majestic fury, dripping contempt. He remembered sort of saying something doing something and Dad really hadn't liked it, whatever it was. He licked his lip and nibbled at the slightly off center dip of his upper lip. Memories were vastly overrated. Thank God he remembered so little of the good old days  
He planned to build memories to forget tonight.  


******

 

Sweat made his shirt cling to him uncomfortably. Sweat ran down his scalp, his neck, curved over his ribs. Sweat made his cologne stronger, sweat made his skin too slick to hold onto. He liked that. At the moment, he was sliding up and down the length of a very, very hot guy, tall and blonde and as far as Lex could tell, big. In a moment, he was going to find out if he was circumcised…

Lex blinked. Blinked again and thought, "Hunh." He had no idea what he was doing in his car, shirt open and pants unzipped and his dick half out. He jerked, reflex made him pat himself down, reach for his wallet—still there. Keys in the ignition…he flipped out his wallet. Card still there, a few hundreds tucked in behind it. Small blessings….

Okay. His head dropped back against the headrest, he tilted his hips and zipped up. The space behind his eyes was filled with throbbing pain, his mouth was desert dry, but he was together enough to drive, thank God. He was about to do just that when someone tapped on the window. Shadows made it hard to see, but his first impression was of lips, deep pink, plush, and even fucked up as he was, imagining the head of his dick resting in that rosy lower lip made him groan. Light shifted and now he could see big green eyes and lashes, long, black…a big hand tapped against the glass. It took Lex a moment to process that tapping meant 'roll the window down'. Why not?

He cracked the window a bit—he still had some small vestige of self-preservation trying to do its job. The guy, it was a guy, smiled, and spoke into the crack. "Hey. Are you okay? You looked a little…out of it."

Lex blinked. An angel was smiling sweetly at him, and Lex wondered if he was still asleep and dreaming…and then he remembered he was under an elevated roadway, zoned out in a dark parking lot behind some club. Not exactly the kind of place one ran into 'angels'. "You were concerned?" Lex asked with the appropriate amount of disbelief and sarcasm.

The guy looked kind of put out, and Lex thought he'd be happy pissing him off all night to get that pout…or maybe this was a Christmas miracle and the guy would want to fuck him—hell, he'd be thrilled just to touch him. Lex wondered desperately about his sanity as his mind gave him a quick little porn movie starring the stranger touching himself…what the fuck had he taken this evening…?

"Yes. I was."

The guy was looking him over like he was worried he'd need to contact next of kin…Lex wondered just how trashed he looked. "My hero."

Now the guy looked annoyed and Lex could already see himself being dismissed and it pissed him off, that's all it did, made him angry and didn't bring back echoes of Excelsior and—and—

"So, what are you doing out here, partying, or—no, wait, let me guess--working?" He sneered, raised an eyebrow and felt some satisfaction when he saw his barb hit home. He was right—the guy was a hustler. Lex smiled, even though it didn't feel as good as it should have. After all, all he had to do now was set price and he'd have what he wanted.

The sweetness he'd thought he'd seen in the guy's face was an illusion. The guy smiled, all steel and ice--assessing, like a pro. "Working," he sneered right back and straightened, leaned his hips against—*fuck!*--the window. He rubbed against the glass just once and Lex could feel himself twitch. The guy pressed his palms against the top of the car, his hips moved lazily from side to side and Lex flushed, thinking of that movement against him. The guy looked down into the car and asked, "What are you doing out here? Partying or…." His voice dropped, and his eyes lowered. The tip of his tongue danced over his full lower lip. Lex took a shaky breath. Damn this guy was *good* at his job. Lex could respect that…maybe more, after he'd fucked him.

"Get in."

"Are you kidding? Number one rule, I don't go for rides. I don't fuck in the street, either, but I'm willing to make an exception for you and break that rule for you but--"

Lex felt a bubble of amusement well up and cling in his throat. A hooker with rules? Sure…"Well, fuck, how do you make a living then?" He narrowed his eyes at the guy who was trying to force his rules on him. "What's the most you made in one night?"

"The most?" Green eyes narrowed quickly in a way that if Lex was completely sober, might have made him hesitate.

"Because I'll double it—triple it," he said quickly, when the guy looked doubtful. "Come back to my place, and I'll make it so worth your while."

Hookerguy stared down into the car, face as blank as an unmarked slate…and then smiled and Lex felt his heart flip over. Son-of-a-bitch, he *needed* to fuck this guy. No fucking body could be that perfect. Needed to fuck him and put this weird thing out of his mind….

Lex rolled the window all the way down, reached out and hooked a couple of fingers into the guy's pocket. "Come with me." He angled his grip and slid his thumb over a sizable bulge. "I promise, I won't hurt you."

The guy laughed and Lex glared at him. "Sorry," the guy smirked, "that's just not something I worry about."

"Fine, so you think you're Jet Li or whatever. You coming or not?"

He bit his lip and Lex had a flash of being jealous of—of—the guy's teeth--shit, he had no idea what was going on, he just wanted his turn to do that.

"Okay," HookerGuy said. He sounded thoughtful, a little hesitant. If Lex hadn't known what his business was, he'd of thought he sounded almost shy. "We can…" He glanced over his shoulder, and bit his lip again. "Okay. Wherever. For triple my usual." He looked a little defiant and strangely, a little proud.

Lex laughed. Triple like it was a big deal…it was highly unlikely the kid was going to break him. He relaxed against his seat, and giggled into his collar as he started the car. Triple…probably meant seventy-five whole dollars….  
Lex strolled across the wood and glass tiled floor of the apartment and Hookerguy followed him. Lex waited for some reaction to the place—the designer who did it had sucked up wads of cash to make the place scream 'I'm so rich I vomit money'…the kid, however, didn't turn a hair. He looked bored as hell, and when Lex tossed his coat across the back of his ever-so-painfully-stylish couch, the guy dropped his jacket there too. Looked at the couch and snorted, like he'd caught Lex wearing--flannel and overalls and chewing on straw. Lex frowned. It didn’t help that he personally thought the couch looked like a result of congress between a kidney and a dozen blocks of acrylic. The fucker was *supposed* to be impressive, damn it. Fucking Dad and his "recommendations".

"So, what's your name?" Lex asked. He stomped over to the bar, and busied himself fixing a drink to cover the brief stab of insecurity.

Hookerguy laughed, a lazy, velvet stroke of sound. He looked around; his bored expression even more pronounced and he smirked when his eyes landed on Lex. "My name? Seriously? You want to do it that way? Okay." He shrugged. "Whatever you want it to be."

"If you want to get paid, you'll humor me. What's your name?"

The kid scowled--he looked less like a Grecian god, and more like an easily provoked and very dangerous lion. He started to speak, hesitated and then shrugged. "Clark."

"Good boy. You're playing nice. Mine is Lex Luthor."

Clark snorted. "Surprise, surprise." He walked across the chrome and glass tundra and threw himself on the ugly couch, uninvited. "What are you doing in Gotham, Lex Luthor, when your regular stalking grounds are Metropolis?"

"What business is it of yours, Hoo—Clark?"

"None, of course. I'm from there—near there." The bright green of his eyes dimmed for a moment and Lex thought he looked almost…sad? Regretful? "Small town outside of the city."

He laughed again at some private joke and Lex bristled. In his experience, private jokes were never a good thing and tended to center around him. Lex yanked his shirt out of the waist of his trousers, and popped the button. "Yes? That's incredibly uninteresting. Are you sure you understand what this whoring business is about? I mean—" He raised an eyebrow pointedly. Clark smirked and slid a huge hand between his legs, and Lex wondered why he'd ever thought there was any softness in this kid. His eyes were green shards of ice….

"What, you don't want to pretend like it's a date? I mean, you brought me home and all." He glanced around the place again. "Excuse me, you brought me to the *showcase*."

Lex flushed. He was *not* trying to impress a whore like he was a favorite daughter of some CEO. This place was just closer. Right--than any of the five star hotels they'd passed on the way, and shut up, he told his brain. "Most of my dates end up right here. I plan to fuck you, then send you home in a cab, and that too, will be just like my average date."

"And you, so *incredibly* charming," Clark said, removing his shoes and socks in a totally business-like and bored manner. Lex sighed. It should have made him feel better, less oddly off balance, watching Clark treat him like any other trick which of course he was and…and maybe he'd wandered off into some odd fantasy land in that parking lot....

"Listen—".

"Shhh." Clark held a finger over his lips, and stood. Rewarded Lex's silence by peeling off what Lex saw now was an artfully distressed and aged t-shirt that he was pretty sure he'd seen downtown in a snottily exclusive shop's window. Lex was beginning to feel that he'd misread the situation--

That thought flew from his mind as an acre of gold, toned, and marble smooth chest came into view. Clark dropped the tee and slid his hands down his stomach to the very low waist of his jeans. "So charming, I can't imagine how you manage to convince your dates to go home," he said, and lovingly traced the thin line of hair trailing into the now open waistband.

Lex imagined following those fingers with his tongue and felt a rush of blood southwards, hard at the thought like he was fifteen again, and winced. He said, "I'm really only paying for the fuck, you can keep the sarcasm." He'd aimed for sounding superior, but only managed to sound a little wounded. _Damn it._ He swallowed. This Clark was throwing him off his game in a way that usually only his dad managed, the bastard.

Clark unzipped and stepped out of the skintight black jeans. "The sarcasm is totally free," he said.

Lex gulped. There was nothing underneath those jeans but more golden skin…and a huge dick. Good. God. There would be no forgetting this night. Lex promised himself to memorize every bit of the evening.

"So? Cat got your tongue?"

"Shut up and put your mouth to good use."  
Clark walked—stalked—up to him, and Lex waited for him to drop and go to work. Instead, he dropped his mouth to Lex's neck, cupped his head with one of those big, big hands and squeezed until Lex moaned. Clark pressed his nose against the arch of his neck and sniffed.

Lex gasped, and cataloged this new sensation—this spark of total lust at being sniffed. No wait—licked—no wait—he let out another long moan when Clark bit down over a pulse point and chuckled, a warm burst of air against Lex's damp skin.

Clark had his hands around Lex's waist, tight, so tight it made Lex feel fragile, small…and so fucking hard, it hurt. Clark was roughly shoving aside the material of his shirt. "You feel nice, smooth…I like that," Clark whispered into Lex's ear, "Your skin is so cool to the touch…."

Lex bit his lip; he was throbbing, painfully hard, from…nothing, yet. Nothing but the heat of Clark's hands, his lips at his ear…fuck. This was fucked up…Clark rolled his hips and brushed his dick across Lex's still cloth covered hard-on. Lex felt his dick jump, leak into the teasing slide of his boxers. "Damn it, wait. I don’t plan to come in my pants."

Clark leaned back and beamed at Lex. "Yeah? Maybe I should try to make you come in your pants. I kinda like the idea you're that hot for me."

"You're a terrible whore," he said and waited for some sort of apology from Clark but instead, he scowled, gripped the waist of Lex's pants in both hands and yanked down, ripping the fabric and leaving long hot streaks of red down Lex's thighs. "Ow! You really are terrible at this— _and_ you have no business sense." he snapped.

Clark smirked, "Oh really? You're still hard. Harder."

Lex saw that the same was true of Clark…and this was turning into the weirdest encounter he'd ever had with a member of the working class. Weren't things supposed to be going his way since he was the one paying? "Well, of course I am. We're unclothed together. I'm supposed to be hard and you're—"

And whatever else he meant to say was gone when Clark went slowly to his knees and rubbed palms against the red streaks on Lex's thighs. "Sorry," he whispered and kissed the marks. His tongue licked across them and Lex hissed, his dick bobbed against Clark's temple as he kissed up the thighs. "Sorry, sorry…" His tongue slicked little circles against his balls, licked up his shaft, and came to a stop against the crown. The pointed tip of his tongue traced the slit and pulled slowly away.

"Shit." Lex shivered. It wasn't just the sensation, though that was incredible. It was the look, that angelic look…long lashes curled against pink cheeks, the deeper pink that stained that mouth…Clark took his dick into that mouth and Lex didn't even try to fight the moan that broke out of him.

Clark looked up—even with his lips red around his dick, his expression managed to be so sweet. His eyes were full of amazement that he was making Lex make that noise, and then the lashes dropped; a red blush swept his cheekbones. Those fingers that had seemed so bold before, were now dancing nervously on his skin, across his hips, on the small of his back, as though Clark was unsure where to rest them. The corners of his eyes grew wet as he tried to take all of Lex in…he drew off and breathed deeply, fingers touching Lex's damp shaft, trembling, afraid to go on, unwilling to stop but unsure of what to do next…

Lex felt a pinch of worry…had he been wrong? Had Clark been acting the whole time, was he really not what he'd pretended to be…he seemed so…unskilled. Clark sighed, leaned forward Lex watched him, mouth open and a surge of lust made his dick jump and precome drip in a thin thread caught up on Clark's fingers. He smiled and licked them clean…

Lex closed his eyes and growled, "God damn, you're _good_ , I can almost buy it, the shy virgin—"  
Clark grinned up at him. "Liar, you _totally_ bought it. Knew that would get you going." He took Lex back in and pushed forward and Lex groaned—he was in the boy's throat, deep, in and…tight, shit…Clark was pulling away again.

He opened his eyes and Clark was on his heels, licking his lip and smiling. "You look pretty like that," Clark said.

Lex moaned. "Are you such a talky bitch with all your clients?"

Grinning wider, Clark shook his head. "You're special."

"Thanks. How much is 'special' going to cost me?"

Clark laughed, and this time it was light and clear and Lex knew, his real laugh. "You can afford it. Anyway, I'm serious. I'll show you." He went down on Lex again, all about business this time, no play. He worked Lex's dick into his throat and swallowed. Lex let out a short sharp shout, and jacked his hips forward. He grabbed handfuls of Clark's hair and held him in place, and fucked his mouth—he was almost there when Clark stopped him. Again.

Lex groaned in frustrated disbelief. What the hell…he wrapped his own hand around himself and thrust quickly, furiously.

Clark grabbed his hips, so tightly it hurt. Lex took a second…if he breathed too deep right now, he'd come—he was sure of it. Clark gripped him tighter. "Don't. I don’t want you to come yet."

Frustration and the need to come right fucking then was making Lex cranky—he felt he had a right to be. "Why the hell _not_ —Jesus, have I told you how much you suck at this whole selling your _ASS_ thing?"  
Clark laughed, and grabbed him by the hand not holding his dick. "Let go. Come on." The grin he turned on Lex this time was full of mischief, and Lex was certain, a kind of fondness. It was a grin that promised—fun. Lex cursed himself for smiling back. Clark was pulling him along with that grin, kept sneaking glances over his shoulder but unerringly dragging Lex up a set of stairs and right back towards a space that had been carved out for use as a bedroom. The bed took up the center of the space; its back wall was industrial type glass windows that looked out over…nothing. Other buildings, other former warehouses. Clark dropped Lex's hand strode over to the walls and yanked the gauzy drapes shut. A dim blue light settled over everything. He looked Lex up and down. "You look beautiful in this light. Unearthly…"

Lex struggled to ignore the heat in his gaze. "How did you know where to go?" he asked. "I don’t ever let anyone up here…not even my dad has seen this…"

Clark shrugged, his eyes cutting away from Lex's. "I get…feelings sometimes. I thought this had to be it. That or your office," he grinned. "Besides, it's no big deal--there aren't a lot of doors on this level." He peered over the top of a block glass wall. "Ooo, nice shower. Big. Roomy." He turned to Lex. "Would you like to fuck in the shower?"

Lex closed his eyes and winced—he'd started to fade on their head-long rush up the stairs but now—hard again. "Yes. And on the bed, and the floor, and possibly on the dresser, I'm fairly flexible—" he stopped and opened his eyes. Clark was laughing silently.

"It's your dime, Lex—so to speak."

"Do I have you all night?"

Clark's face darkened, and he turned away from Lex. "I guess…yeah. I guess you do." He whirled back towards Lex with his arms spread wide, and a smile nothing like the one he'd given him on the stairs. "I'm all yours."

Lex started at the sudden movement, but Clark's words lit up in his brain like a neon sign. "I'm all yours."

Clark's hands landed on his body, and Lex turned his mouth up to his, and melted into the kiss but it was already too late—Lex was thinking, and sooner or later, his body would catch up with his mind.  
Clark whirled again, Lex in his arms, and dropped back onto the bed, taking Lex with him. It startled a laugh out of Lex, and Clark chuckled. "You look good laughing." He touched his fingers to Lex's mouth. "You don’t do it very often, do you?"

Lex pushed Clark's fingers away. "The laughs are few and far between when you're a Luthor."

Clark's eyes darkened. "Then let me do something about that." He kissed Lex, deep. Slow. Wet, and working up to rough. He led Lex, and Lex let him take control. Clark was the professional, after all. Slowly, surely, Clark made everything around them disappear. The feel of his skin…smoother even than Lex's own…the heat he gave off, the scent…God, Lex wanted to wrap himself up in everything that Clark was, and never let it go.

He considered: how much would the guy charge to stay here, with him, forever?

Could one…put a whore on retainer?

There seemed to be an absence of movement. Lex opened his eyes a slit, and Clark was nose to nose with him. It was…startling. "Wow," Clark said. "You really think loud."

Lex nodded. "I've been told that."

Clark nodded in return and, in the same tone of voice, asked, "Do you like being rimmed?"

Lex blinked, shuddered. "For your own safety, that had better not be a rhetorical question."

Clark snorted and gently turned Lex onto his stomach. "Hunh. It's odd. The scar on your lip is the only scar you have. Most people have scars scattered all over…little ones, big ones…but not you," he murmured. "I like scars, they interest me." He trailed fingers up and down Lex's sensitive back. "Almost as much as the ones that don’t show. I bet you have a lot of those, don’t you…ah." Clark inhaled sharply. "Here's one."

Lex felt Clark's fingertip press into the small of his back, and he was embarrassed when a tiny sound of anticipation escaped his tight lips. Clark didn’t seem to hear it; Lex could feel Clark's warm breath skate over his skin as he kept on speaking quietly. "No," he heard him say, "that's not a scar—oh! Freckles."

Lex felt the tip of Clark's tongue rest against his skin, circle something, move in loops across his back, and lower, and lower, until it rested, hot and wet, where his cleft began. A kiss, followed by a stream of cool air, made him shudder—he was sensitive there anyway and this, this was torture. "I love freckles. You have pretty ones," Clark sucked a tiny sharp kiss where his tongue had been—"all"--and the kiss went harder, sharper, and Lex imagined blood blooming under his skin, red shading to purple—hoped it looked like that—"over"--another sharp nip—"your"—the nip became a real bite and Lex moaned and spread his legs—"back." Clark spread him wider, let his tongue weave downwards, making Celtic knots, making mazes, making Lex shiver and moan and arch, trying to drive Clark's tongue to where he needed it….

The kiss was expected, and still Lex yelled. It was hotter than he'd imagined it would be, and he tried to open wider, pulled his legs as far apart as he could, and Clark was a solid weight between them, big hands a steady pressure holding him open, slick tongue working inside of him—thrusting in and out, and making him want to cry—it was that good, that amazing. Lex's dick jerked, again and again, and he ground himself against the comforter, desperate for relief. Desperate.

"Lex." It was a new experience, this wanting to come at the sound of his own name. "Lex…." Clark's fingers slid inside of him--fingers, tongue, fire—fuck. Fuck. The stretch felt good, it felt good to have big fingers pressing inside him, opening him. Biting, sucking, licking kiss driving him _crazy_...he could hardly breathe for wanting to scream….

"Mmm. I like that. I love this part. Making people melt, making them moan…making them weak." Clark's teeth grazed the shell of his ear. "Controlling them. I love it when I make them scream my name, like you're going to."  
Lex choked and moaned, and Clark used his fingers to bring him to his knees, open, moaning, his dick bobbing, dripping. Sweat ran down his face, ran into his eyes, down his arms. "Oh, God—do your clients have to pay you to shut the fuck up when you're screwing?"

"You have a wonderful sense of humor, Lex." Clark pushed his fingers in and was quiet for a moment. When he moved again, Lex arched off the bed, a shower of electric sparks streaming through him, and Clark kept talking, talking, telling Lex what he was going to do, how much he'd love this and then he felt cool, thick, slick run down his back, run into his hole, pushed in by long, thick fingers….  
He loved that feeling: being opened wide, being made to open. Loved it so much that he hardly ever indulged in it, and now. Now it was as natural and needful as breathing…damn Clark.  
"Shhh, relax, relax, I've got you," and Lex shook like a leaf in the wind. Oh, God, life was funny—for twenty-four years 'I've got you' had meant, 'I'm going to _get_ you, going to make you hurt' and now, suddenly, it meant 'safe' and 'home'—and he was hearing it from a whore? _Believing_ it? Lex sobbed out a laugh. This was surely the first time in his life he'd ever made a purchase that was worth it….

"Lex, let go, let go, it's okay…" and he felt the solid push inside, thick and rough, and it burned like a fire deep inside, but only for a little, just a little bit….

"You're so hot inside, so tight it's like you're holding me, I can feel how much you want it." Clark moved carefully--deep, thorough strokes. Lex felt like he was being slowly tortured into ecstasy, the need to come building with each thick slide over that spot Clark found unerringly, over and over, just pounding bliss into his bones. He was rock-hard, straining to find release; not even Clark impaling him had made him flag and now, he had to---God, he had to.

"Please, please, please, please…." Lex felt a flash of fear, of losing more than control. He stiffened, and Clark picked up on it instantly.

"I told you, I've got you, I'm going to make you happy, I'm going to make you come so, so hard…" and Clark wrapped an arm around his hips, grabbed his dick and started to jack him, quick, rough, slow, sweet—it was driving him insane. Lex was going to have to come in self-defense. His balls tightened and his ass tightened and Clark finally moaned, a tiny crack in all that self-assured control which made Lex jerk, and spurt pre-come into the huge damp spot under him....

Clark's lips pressed right between his shoulder blades, and Lex had never noticed that Clark was flattened against his back, his whole long self curled around Lex like…like a shell, like armor. Lex liked it. It felt almost as intimate as Clark's dick buried in his ass. "Oh, God. Oh, shit." He jerked his head back and, with a gasp, came, silently, violently, so hard he had a flash of understanding what it meant to be one with the universe.

Clark kept moving slowly through Lex's orgasm, telling him how good, and how pretty, how hot Lex looked coming for him and then, not even changing rhythm, not really moving at all, came himself. A harsh growl, a tensing of muscle, and a throb deep inside him was all Lex knew of Clark's orgasm.  


******

 

It took a while before Lex's body caught on to the fact that he wasn't dead, that he was just experiencing a bone deep relaxation, that every muscle was pleasantly loose, and that he was feeling incredibly...good.

Clark was sitting up, leaning back on one arm, the other curled over his lap. He was smiling in a way that made Lex feel that much more content.

"So sweet." Clark said, "You know, you fell asleep for a few minutes. Here." He moved closer and Lex saw Clark held a washcloth folded in his hand. Clark said, "I cleaned up while you slept…you whistle a little as you snore. It's cute."

Lex took it gratefully; he was a little…messy. The cloth was damp, almost hot. Perfect. "I did not snore and certainly didn't whistle, and I don't fall asleep around strangers."

Clark tilted his head. "Oh? Need I remind you; I found you passed out in your car?"

"You see? Passed out, not sleeping." He ignored Clark's snort of outrage and shrugged. Lex stretched, enjoyed the ache and tingle deep inside him like a secret prize. Even the brief spike of annoyance that Clark was so talented at producing in him, couldn't keep Lex from smiling.

"Lex. Lex, Lex. I can't believe you made it this far in life without a keeper." Clark chuckled.

Lex enjoyed the sound and was about to say so, when Clark shifted. Lex watched his gentle smile bleed away and become something a little harder. Clark licked his lips and said, "So, was it worth six thousand dollars, or not? Wait, maybe you shouldn’t answer yet—you do have the rest of the night ahead of you."

There was a self-satisfied smirk bowing those soft, rose lips now. Lex missed that other smile… wait--what? Did he say-- "Six thousand dollars? Six thousand dollars! But—but--you were working the street!"

"I'm sorry. I was screwing with you. There's just something about you that brings out the worst in me." Clark didn't look the slightest bit repentant, and Lex had to admit that as much as he wanted to wipe the smirk off Clark's lips, he also needed to suck that bottom one again—damn it. Clark watched him with bright green eyes, and Lex had the feeling the obnoxious boy knew exactly what he was thinking. "Besides," Clark continued, "I have the feeling I'm not the only one you do that to. No, I was heading to my car…coming back from a 'date'. The street…" He chuckled. "I haven't been on the street since a month after I…left home."

"But…"

"My, ah, benefactor made it possible. He takes very good care of me. He taught me a lot…a lot." Clark looked around Lex's apartment, with the barest curl to his lip. It was a curl that years of living with Lionel had made very familiar to Lex. "He taught me about taste…"

"I'm imaging that most of your work consists of angry sex?"

Clark snickered. "Lex. You really are funny. I don’t think I've laughed this much in…a very long time." He cast a shy glance at Lex. "I like it."

Lex rolled up to kneel on the bed, and prodded Clark with a finger. "I have to confess, I'm enjoying it as well. I must admit, this hasn't gone at all as I thought it would. You're really…unusual."

Clark grinned. "You have no idea. Why don’t you order us some food, Lex? I'm hungry. And I need fuel for more…later. Whatever you choose."  
"Order food? Who can afford it? I've got to pay for this outrageously expensive whore I picked up this evening."

Clark smiled and stretched lazily, putting himself on display and confident in how good he looked doing it. The move was a sensual ripple of muscle that made Lex's head swim for a second. Clark pushed back against the pillows, arms folded behind his head. "Your choice," he repeated. Lex marveled that such a very dirty promise could lurk in so sweet and bright a smile.

Lex decided the feeling he was experiencing was somewhat like tripping and falling down a dark and twisty flight of stairs, and who knew what was waiting for him at the bottom. "Jesus…just tell me what you want."  


******

So, here's the thing," Lex said, inspecting a forkful of the salmon frittata that Clark had demanded for breakfast. "I want to buy your contract." He frowned, poked apart the thin slivers of smoked salmon hiding in the egg, crouching behind the slices of asparagus. Really, he'd expected they'd be having…Frosted Flakes or something sugary and bad for you for breakfast…he'd been looking forward to it. He directed his frown at Clark. He kept underestimating the man, and it was not making him happy. He was so wrapped up in his own musing he nearly missed Clark's reaction to what he'd thought was a fairly straight forward question.

More or less.

"What?" Clark spluttered, nearly choking on a piece of that healthy asparagus. "You want to…buy my contract? Lex. I'm not an indentured servant. I'm a _whore._ We don't get contracts. There's no piece of paper--at least not in Gotham, we don't," Clark laughed.

Lex toyed with the cooling mess on his plate, stabbing it thoughtfully with his fork. He'd already eaten more this morning than he ate most days…must be why his stomach was flipping so unpleasantly. Queasiness dropped away when an awful thought wiggled up out the depths of his mind.

"Oh my…is it your family, Clark? Are you afraid for them—"

Because no one that beautiful could be a throw-away, only someone insane would drive away a beauty like Clark. Therefore, he _had_ to have been stolen. Maybe his family had been coerced into giving him up, in some terrible way…didn't matter, he'd help Clark, whatever it took….

Clark wiped his mouth, taking a little too long to do so and being suspiciously careful about it. All Lex could see of Clark's face over the napkin were his eyes, crinkled at the corners, and sparkling in a way that made Lex feel that he was being a little silly and possibly overdramatic.

"Really, Lex? You need to stop reading Victorian romances. No one is holding me captive, for God's sake—or threatening my family. I'm indebted to my benefactor—more than that, I'm grateful. He took me off the street and gave me a new beginning, cared for me when no one else did, and listen--the reason why I do what I do, is because I'm damn good at it, all right?"

"Is this shouting at me part of the service? Or do I have to pay extra for abuse?"

Clark took a breath and lowered his voice. "He taught me how to live in this city, to be—what _your_ kind of person wants. Without him, I'd be crouched on some horrible fourth-hand Good Will sofa, scarfing down dry Frosted Flakes. Stop trying to save me. I've already been saved."

The blood climbing his cheeks in a flustered blush wasn't a new sensation for Lex—and as usual when he felt he was being attacked, he responded in kind. It was a lack of control that Dad loved to punish him for. Over-emotional. His biggest failing. "I am not being a romantic!" Lex stopped, counted to ten. "I'm—I'm being a business man. What—did you think I wanted to—to keep you for myself? Please." Lex wiped invisible specks of egg from his fingers and that bit of business gave him the time he needed to wrestle his emotions back on track. "Don’t be ridiculous. You’re good at whoring, you bring the word a whole new meaning. But you see, this is Gotham, and while Gotham is fine for what it is, Metropolis is the _real_ world. In Metropolis, you can fuck your way up the ladder—not just keep going sideways." He sneered. He was positive it was as effective a sneer as good old Dad's. At least as good as Clark's.

Was that hurt on Clark's face? Indigestion, more likely, Lex thought, and as if reading his mind, Clark laughed. Lex was fascinated, he'd never actually believed that a laugh could be described as dripping with scorn, but lo. It dripped, and was filled with scorn.

"Are you afraid of your pimp?" Simple question--complex reaction, Lex observed.

Clark stopped laughing. His lip pushed out, his eyebrows drew together in a dark line of anger. He began to open his mouth, and Lex waited for more shouting, for leaving…and then Clark smiled. The boy's smile was easy-going, bland. His eyes were blank. Full of nothing. Well, shit. Lex had worked for years to be able to blank out his expression like that. He was envious how good Clark was at it…maybe he could coach Lex. Hell, he'd be willing to pay for that, too.

Clark leaned back on one elbow, drawing circles on his own skin, totally unselfconscious of his nudity. Lex swallowed the hot lump lodged in his throat and pushed the bed-tray away. He wished he was as unaware of Clark's skin as Clark was.

"No, I'm self-employed. I don’t have a pimp. My benefactor is _not_ my pimp, he's just a guy who…" Clark shrugged. "That's not what he did—does for me. I meant it when I said he took me off the street. It's just…"Clark smiled like an angel. "I liked it. I like fucking. I like people to want me, to desire me so much they'll hurt themselves for me. And as much as I charge…trust me, it's definitely painful. I wasn't kidding when I said I gave you a discount. A big one." He tilted his head, and Lex could see his eyes sweep over his own body before rising to lock with Lex's. "But I like to think I give as much as I take." And finished his sentence with a mile that was completely the opposite of angelic.

Lex swallowed, and his throat clicked--instantly dry. "Can—who is this amazingly generous benefactor? Tell me about him."

Clark pouted. "But I thought after breakfast we could fuck again. Food makes me horny—oh, all right. But if I have to play Scheherazade, I want extra."

"I take it back; you are a damn good whore."

Lex really had no idea what possessed him to keep taking shots at this man. Anger and hurt whisked across Clark's face so fast that the average person wouldn't have seen it, but Lex knew that cocktail of emotions too well not to catch it. Interesting, seeing proof that he was getting under Clark's skin wasn't as satisfying as he thought it'd be. Clark got up, moved the tray away. He lay back on the bed, stroking Lex's hip. "All right, story. Bruce is an interesting person. Very interesting."  
"Not Bruce Wayne?" fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck

"Yes. Bruce Wayne." Clark looked at him oddly. "There was some…trouble where I lived…my parents made it clear that I was less than welcome at home, so I took the bus as far as I could afford, and that was Gotham. I'd heard about it. It seemed like the kind of place a person like me…could live. I was here only a very short while, when I discovered something about myself. People want me. They look at my ass, and wonder what it'd be like to fuck me; they look at my mouth and wonder what it'd feel like on them…what my cock would feel like in them. And then I spent some time _wasting_ this knowledge. Until Bruce found me."

Lex ground his teeth, fighting a familiar wave of emotion--equally terrified and raging. Part of him was furious that it was Bruce who'd taught Clark, part of him was afraid of his reaction if Bruce found out who his pet was with right now…"Ah! _Ow!"_

Lex glared at Clark, who was licking over a dotted ring of tiny purple bruises on Lex's hip. "You weren't paying attention," Clark said sweetly, and pressed a lingering kiss over the mark.

Lex ignored the soft, warm pressure on his abused skin. "Why did your parents throw you out? What did you do?" he asked and Clark's eyes flared. Lex blinked. They'd literally flared for a moment, or seemed to…he blinked again, and delicately rubbed at an eye. That was…odd. In an evening full of oddness, even.

"I didn't _do_ anything," Clark said. "They just couldn't. Couldn't deal with me, what I was."

Lex was nodding. "Oh yeah. Get caught one time with your pants around your knees in the locker room, and it's blah-blah military school, blah-blah homo deprogramming camp in Delaware—"

"Um. For me—it was a slightly different issue, actually."

Lex was uncomfortably aware of Clark's assessing look. He drew his chin up a little. At least, Lex thought, he hadn't been the one _kneeling_ —potato, pah-tatoe, but in his dad's world, it counted.

Clark touched Lex's defiant chin with a soft fingertip, slid the finger up to gently stroke over the thin little ridge on Lex's upper lip. His face softened, and Lex could feel his doing the same, all unwilling. "You know…I think I could tell you the reason why. Some day. Anyway, they wanted me out, and I wanted to be out--short story, here I am." The finger trailed around Lex's twitching lip, and landed in the little concave dip at the base of his throat. Lex felt it when he swallowed.

"And Bruce plucked you like a ripe strawberry, took you home to train you to…have sex with him?" It was hard to talk and smile, Lex thought, when all he wanted to do was somehow unclench his teeth, and lock them on Clark's throat.

"No, Lex." Clark took his hand away and stretched out on the bed again. "I don’t have sex with him."

"You—you--why not?" he managed to say.

"Why not…Lex," he laughed, "you have no idea what a simple question that isn't. Why not? I don’t know. I have no idea what goes on in his head. I—" Clark slid off the bed, and Lex tried to grab him, but it was like grabbing air. Clark had his back to him and he was tense, so tense Lex could imagine the air around him crackled—when Clark turned back to him, he was smiling; his eyes were bright, a little too bright.

"Sleeping with Bruce was never an option. I knew that early on. He hired teachers—" Lex jerked, felt his mouth drop open, and Clark laughed, "—he did, really. People who taught me how to do—everything you can imagine. And a few things you probably can't." His smile was so hot and full of promise… Lex could feel sweat run between his shoulder blades, following the ridge of his spine all the way down….

"He watched, he watched all the time and I could see that it aroused him. But he never. Touched me." Clark looked thoughtful, almost sad. Lex licked dry lips and nodded like he understood but he didn't. Bruce…had touched Lex. He'd touched him all over. Everywhere. Lex had no fucking idea why he hadn't done the same with Clark. No idea how he _couldn't_ touch Clark. How…how young had Clark been?

"I've let myself into his room at night, reeking of everything I'd done that evening…telling him all of it, how much I'd made, what I'd done, what the trick'd said…I'd lay right next to him, talking to him while I jerked off, I've climbed right over him, jerked off on him. Do you know what it's like to want somebody so much that—that it makes you crazy? I'm not talking about love; I'm talking about wanting it so much it makes you sick."

Bruce's ice blue eyes, black and dazed with emotion, pushed to the limit--past the limit--Lex tried to speak, but the words clogged his throat. He stared at Clark, and nodded.

Clark went on, "I can see it in his eyes. He wants me. He _wants_ me. He's followed me…I know he's even watched me with clients. He finds a way…" At Lex's barely suppressed gasp, Clark smiled, almost shyly. "Oh, well…there are times _I've_ made sure he can watch. I didn’t say I didn't like it."

Lex crouched under the fluffy thick covers and hoped Clark couldn't tell just how hard he was…"Oh?"

Clark came closer again, crawled up the bed and gazed into Lex's eyes. When he spoke again, it was faster, less controlled…louder.

"Sometimes I steal his car to meet my 'dates' and we fuck on his seats, why not? He tells me what he has is mine too. I take his clothes, and make them into a mess, and then put them back in his closet…" Lex smiled. That was…pretty good, actually and he wished he'd thought of it when he was doing his best to give his dad a heart attack.

"It's a--a game. No matter what I do, no matter how much I push, he takes it. He doesn't blink an eye. I torture him and he lets me, and lets me, and I don’t know why I'm doing it. Why? Why, Lex?"

Clark didn't look any clearer than Lex was as to what question it was he was asking, so confused, and sort of 'little boy lost' that Lex held his hands out. "Come here."

Clark edged closer, let Lex take his hand and ease him onto the bed. Lex stroked his knuckles, the palm of his hand, touched his mouth to the center of it, kissed his wrist…"I know why you do it. Because he won't listen to words; because you're screaming for someone to touch you. God, you poor bastard, I know all about that."

"I'm really not lacking for touch, Lex."

Lex bit back a laugh at Clark's wry smile. God, Clark was…he suspected Clark was perfect. Lex smiled when Clark curled around him. "You know I don't mean touch like that. When's the last time someone put their arms around you just because _you_ liked it? Said, 'hey, I like being around you. When I look up and see you standing there, it makes my heart skip a beat'?"

Clark leaned against Lex, and looked at him for so long, Lex was swamped with the crystal clear and neon bright realization that what he'd just said was unbearably corny, and not only that, he'd just babbled that shit at a guy who was more sophisticated, more experienced and more worldly-wise than he could ever be. A guy who, even living his life the way he was, was freer than Lex could ever hope to be. Lex was seized with the desire to start talking, about anything, nothing, just to fill the steadily heavier silence. A long silence meant only bad things. Meant being scolded, being mocked, meant the prelude to discipline…

Lex's heart stuttered with relief when Clark finally spoke. "I knew it. I knew it when I saw you, Lex." Clark said, and then said nothing, but he laid one of his gigantic hands on Lex's chest, right over his heart.

"Knew what?" How embarrassing, he thought, that his voice was so breathless.

"That we fit. That we complement each other."

"Being passed out and fucked up in club parking lot attracted you in some way? You have deeper issues than falling for Bruce Wayne."

"I don't love Bruce, I already said that. And I'm leaving there, aren't I?"

"You…are you taking me up on my offer to work for me?"

"Oh that," Clark laughed, and it was so sweet, so delighted a sound that Lex winced. "Come on, you know you didn’t mean that." He smiled at Lex fondly. "Like you could actually share."  
"Fuck you, you don't know me," Lex stuttered. "I can share. I could share." I could absolutely share in selling his ass. If Bruce can do, it than so can I. I think. Oh, fuck

"Lex." Clark leaned closer and kissed him on the end of his nose, kissed his chin, and mumbled against it, "You could never share. How long would any of my 'dates' last…until they got out of the building?" Clark laughed, and this laugh was low and soft, and went straight to Lex's dick. "Tell me, Lex, would they even make it to the elevator?"

"Clark! I'm not…I wouldn't…"

Clark nipped at the soft underside of Lex's chin, soothed it with a kiss. "No, no, of course not."

He drew back slowly, and Lex followed him like they were roped together. Lex was panting, hard, dripping, and Clark was just smiling, watching Lex's dick dip, and drool—Lex growled and wrapped his own hand around himself and jerked up and down, a little harder than he'd planned to. He'd rather pluck his own eyes out than wince, though….

"But, you—you wouldn't pretend like you didn’t want me. You'd follow me," Clark drawled. "But you wouldn’t watch…not you."

Lex closed his eyes and shuddered. No, he wouldn't…but he'd imagine it. Clark, sweating, fucking some stranger and he…he'd be hiding, watching, maybe in a closet, through a crack, he'd watch, and Clark would make the person do what he wanted and look over to the closet, smile, knowing Lex was about to come just watching him…Fuck!

Clark's mouth closed over the tip of his dick, and he sucked like he had candy in his mouth, his eyelids fluttered shut….

"Clark," Lex panted. "Let me tie you up." _Let me keep you._  
"No."  
"No? That's it? But Clark, I paid…a lot." Lex knew it wasn't a _lot_ lot--not for his set--but still, it was a lot more than the couple of hundred he'd expected, and in hindsight, that had been a remarkably stupid assumption, considering the acres of pure sex spread out over his sheets….

Clark rolled his eyes and waved off Lex's perfectly reasonable expectations. "So? Haven't we established that you paid for my _time_ , not for ownership? I don’t do tying up—I don't do tying _me_ up. Believe me, Lex, we can do very, very inventive things that don't involve bondage."

Lex was in no way distracted by the wicked, evil-- _really_ evil--smile Clark trained on him. Lex knew what he wanted, and what he wanted was…all of Clark, right down to his each and every individual cell. "But, Clark, it's not really bondage; I just want to tie your hands and…I want you to put yourself in _my_ hands. Just for a little bit. You know I won’t hurt you."

"That's not…I'm not worried about that." Clark's eyebrows drew together in that way Lex had already come to think of as simultaneously adorable and frightening. "I just can't, Lex. Trust me--I can't."

"Clarrrrrk…" Lex drawled, and let his fingers walk down Clark's body. "Come on. Humor me." He opened his eyes in a wide, sincere way that he knew could occasionally be pretty darn effective. He pushed his lower lip out a bit, too. Couldn't hurt.

"Lex, no. I don't do that, ever. Stop pouting--that doesn't work on me. It really doesn't…oh, God."

Lex climbed up the bed and whispered in Clark's ear, "Okay, no tying...just hold on to the headboard, then. Pretend."

"What…."

"Come on, you've done that before, right?" Lex thought back on what Clark had told him, and bit the inside of his cheek.

Clark shook his head slowly, eyes large and a little…Lex could swear he looked a little frightened. Of Lex? Lex blinked in surprise. Clark said, "Pretend? I'm not sure." He eyed the metal frame, and Lex laughed.

"It'll be fine. It's solid," he smirked, but Clark gave him the oddest look. "Just hold on to the frame, and don't let go until I tell you."

Clark's eyes flared. "Oh, oh…I. All right."  
"Yeah? Good. Kneel up here and hold on to the headboard…."

He leaned over and spoke again into Clark's ear, his tongue tracing the shell. "Remember. Don't. Let. Go."

Clark licked his lips and nodded, wrapping his hands around the top tube of the metal headboard. Lex fussily arranged Clark the way it suited him, nudging and tugging at him until he was posed with his arms straight out and his knees apart.

"There you go. Can you hold that position for a while?"

Clark gave Lex a smug look. "Yes, Lex, I can hold it for a while."

Lex smiled. He planned to wipe that look off Clark's face, starting now. He came up behind Clark, leaned until an electric feeling washed over him, crackling between the two of them—they weren't quite touching, but Lex felt as if his _skin_ was yearning towards Clark.

Clark gasped, "Lex…I feel you, like…like we're…magnetic."

"That's exactly it, Clark," he murmured. "We are drawn to each other. Kismet." Lex breathed in, steadying his breath, steadying his hand. Slowly, slowly, slowly, he reached out and…touched.

Clark jumped. "Ow! I mean—not ow--I—I don’t know what I mean."

"Hold on," Lex whispered, spread his hand over Clark's trembling back. "Hold on…."

"I am," Clark said, "I won’t let go, until you tell me to."

Lex bit his lip; felt his dick already beginning to fill. "Good. Good, Clark." He traced downward along the shallow indent of Clark's spine, down until his fingertip rested in a dimple over Clark's perfect ass. "I want to feel you, like you felt me. I want to make you sigh…hell. I want to make you scream. I want you to understand you don’t need anyone else but me—ever again."

"Lex." Clark's tone was full of warning, kindness…regret.

"Oh, no. You'll see, Clark. You'll see." Lex kissed the point where his finger had been, the tip of his tongue barely touching Clark. He reached between his wide spread knees and caressed the velvet-smooth sac, squeezing gently, and then with more pressure, and more, until Clark was squirming, and panting softly against his own arm.

"Lex, Lex, I—" Lex watched muscles ripple as Clark shifted, but never let go of the headboard. "You can do it harder, Lex," he said, almost pleading.

Lex huffed in surprise, frowned a little. He stopped squeezing, and Clark groaned, pushing against him. Lex held him back. "I don't think so, Clark, that's not what I want—"

"It's what _I_ want. Don't worry. Really, it's okay."

Lex swallowed hard, feeling a burning in his gut that had nothing to do with arousal. Fucking Bruce. Bruce had a lot to account for, he growled silently. He was going to have a talk with Bruce, and soon. "All right, Clark. Hold on, and—don’t speak unless you really need to. I mean that--when you want me to stop, speak up." Clark met his eyes, gazed at him for a long moment and then nodded wordlessly.

Lex slithered between Clark and the headboard—he winced when the cold metal touched his skin. Clark's mouth opened, but not to speak—his tongue wet his lips, and Lex shocked himself by moaning like a teenage girl. He spread his hands over Clark's chest, thumbs nudging Clark's nipples, and smiled when Clark jerked. "You like that?" Lex watched Clark watch him as he leaned closer, parted lips hovering right over the smooth brown disc--again so close, but not touching.

Lex inhaled noisily, obviously, drinking in the scent of Clark. Looked down and watched Clark's dick filling, half-hard and really beautiful.

"You want me to touch you, don’t you, Clark? You want me to take your nipple, suck on it—maybe bite, hard, until you can’t stay still…play with it until your dick is hard, wet…could you come that way, you think? Are you that sensitive? Maybe not." Clark whimpered and shifted nervously. "Or maybe yes."

Clark's dick was nudging Lex's hip now, and Lex felt it drag a warm, moist trail on the skin. Lex put his mouth over Clark's nipple and felt it quickly harden, pebble up against his tongue. Clark whined, his dick stuttering over Lex's hip. Lex sucked harder, rasped at the tight nub with his teeth, and Clark's stuttering moves became purposeful; he thrust against Lex, rubbing against his stomach. Lex's own dick was hard; Clark's arousal was exciting him.

"Ah, Clark, Clark--" Lex took the neglected nipple in his mouth, chewing on it, pulling, pinching the other until Clark was gasping aloud in time with Lex biting, sucking….

Through a tremendous act of will, Lex pulled away from Clark. "Speak, Clark--tell me what you want."

"Lex! Please, touch me, fuck me, God--let me go—"

"No. Hold on as I told you to, Clark." Lex reached down and slid his hand around Clark's dick, smearing precome onto his palm. He was about to lick it wetter, but held his hand out to Clark, instead, and Clark licked it clean, chased all the taste away from palm, fingers…his tongue worked at Lex's sensitive skin until Lex shivered, moaned….

Clark's arms trembled, and the headboard squeaked. He sobbed. "Fuck me, please."

Lex shook his head, and instead pulled Clark's nipple, hard, harder--as hard as he thought was safe—and then a little more.

Clark howled and threw his head back, his dick slapping wetly against Lex's hip again, and Lex jerked his hand away. Clark was obviously on edge; his eyes were glazed, pupils blown, he was panting…and Lex knew damn well Clark should be screaming. His nipple was red, hot, swollen…but not in any way that looked other than teased, loved. Maybe…maybe this thing with Clark wasn't due to Bruce….

Clark seemed to be swimming up to the surface from a long, deep way away. "Lex," he moaned, "don't think now. Later—I'll tell you later--just now, _please."_

Lex nodded. "Right, right…let me. Let me—" He scooted around behind Clark and found those dimples again, and this time, he pushed his tongue into each shallow depression, took his time, licked, and sucked and marveled at how smooth and warm and well, kind of tasty Clark's skin was. Clark, for his part, squirmed and jerked and breathed hard and--

Lex raised an eyebrow. He recognized the sound of metal being abused; it was a sound he was well acquainted with.

Clark shook his head and almost laughed. Gasped, "Oh, God, don't you ever stop thinking-- _please…."_

Lex added that sound to the list of things to be discussed, and fished the lube out from under the sheets. He bathed his fingers in a light coating of the gel, and pressed the tip of one finger into Clark, and smiled to himself when Clark shouted his approval, and continued to press inward as carefully, as slowly, as he could, until his slick wet palm rested against Clark's ass. Lex's dick twitched; he cupped himself, grew in his own grip. "Ah, Clark…."

Pulled his finger out, and pressed another in. Two now, and he twisted them, stretching, pressing, sinking into Clark's heat. He cursed when Clark moaned, "I need more."

More…Lex had four fingers inside Clark, hot, slick--he could feel the tight stretched ring flutter at the press of his hand--and Clark dropped his head, moaning, moaning, and a few scant drops of sweat broke out on the line of his neck, caught Lex's eyes. "Um, Clark…most people are uncomfortable at this—"

"Oh, fuck, Lex, most people—don't notice shit—at this—point—" Clark thrust back, trying to get Lex to move. "No one but you has ever— _fuck_ —noticed a damn thing about me," Clark laughed, breathless and a little wild. "Now, let me move or I'll ruin your bed. Let me come!"

Lex pulled his fingers free, smeared them across Clark's hip and drawled, "What can I say? I'm a very observant man," and felt proud that his voice barely quavered. He added, "Clark, I'm getting ready to fuck you; are you ready?" And before Clark could answer, drove in until his hips were pressed tight to Clark's ass. It was like seating himself in a volcano.

"Fuck! Oh. Shit." Lex heard a creak that went on and on and Clark was shaking and apologizing and Lex closed his eyes, held himself stock still and thought about disgusting things, thought about his dad….

When he knew he wasn't going to come the second he moved, he let out a long breath and began shallow, teasing thrusts.

"Lex, harder, harder, please, I need more…."

Lex groaned. "You don't bottom, do you? You can't, can you? You have to be…." Lex stopped, for a long drawn-out second he could only shake, and tighten his hold on Clark's hips. Then, deliberately, he curled his fingers into hooks and clawed Clark's hips, his thighs, knowing Clark would like it. Lex shoved in, held still for a few long beats before pulling out, slowly. He didn’t want this to be the fastest fuck he'd had since he was thirteen….

Clark moaned, and cursed so quietly Lex thought at first he was praying. When he did speak, it was with an air of confession. Interesting. "I have to be in control, yes, I have to watch, to be careful—"  
"Clark." It should have been frightening. For anyone else, it would have been. Lex…Lex bit his lip and tried not to come on the spot. So much power, under him, begging him, crying for it….  
The headboard had been transformed, was now a piece of abstract art, tortured steel squeezed and twisted and curved into a visual scream. Lex wrapped an arm around Clark's waist, threw the other arm around Clark's throat, and fucked him like he was insane, animal, wild--Lex figured, in the morning, he'd be bruised like a prize fighter…. "Now, Clark?"  
"Okay, now, right now, now—" Clark arched, reached behind him, and pulled Lex tight. Lex felt Clark's muscles clamp down—felt a spike of fear until he realized; Clark couldn’t hurt him, ever. Clark sighed, surprising Lex, who'd expected him to be loud after…after all that _sound,_ but all he did was sigh, and come, and it was almost…sweet. Almost. And hotter than fucking hell. Clark was red from cheeks to ass, and his red, red mouth whispered "Lex…."

It rushed up on Lex like a hot punch to the brain—a wave of orgasm that was so deep and so hard, it hurt to come. He felt heat wash around his dick, saw stars the whole time he came inside Clark--

 

******

  
"Clark." Lex was spread-eagled in the pile of damp and ruined sheets. His hands were clasped over his flat belly; his eyes were tracking invisible trails on the ceiling. "This 'small' town outside of Metropolis that you come from…it is Smallville, isn't it? Because…if it is, I think I understand a lot about you now. We might have a lot in common."

Clark lay starfished on the other side of the bed, the ends of his formerly perfectly coiffed hair curled with sweat, his lips curled in a look of satisfied exhaustion that seemed to surprise him. "Mmm. Maybe. You're being awfully calm about…this. Too calm."  
"Oh, believe me, Clark, inside, I'm screaming and running in circles, but—" Lex laughed. "I've been doing that since I was nine years old." He sat up, and kicked Clark in the side. "You still want to come with me, right? Even if I'm moving to Smallville?"  
Clark stopped breathing. He gazed at Lex, past Lex, into some place only Clark knew. "Smallville…show up back in Smallville as your pet whore?"

Lex tsked. "So fucking melodramatic. No, you’re showing up in Smallville as my incredibly handsome, incredibly wealthy and well-looked-after lover, Lex Luthor's companion, the one he thinks the sun rises and sets on. We'll drive down whatever their equivalent of Main Street is, and beep the horn and flip everyone off, and then we'll park in their town square, and you can put me on the hood of the car and blow me. What do you think I'll look better on? A convertible or a sedan?"

Clark rolled over and smiled at Lex--the biggest, warmest smile he'd given him yet--and right on the spot, Lex swore his entire life would be dedicated to making Clark look that happy, forever. "Let's have you fuck me over the hood, instead."

"I'll pick a sedan, then." Lex joked. He smiled down at his perfect lover and tried to remember when he'd ever felt as content, and suddenly, like a dash of cold water…"Bruce. What about Bruce?"

"Bruce doesn't—it's not important. It's done. The car's not even in the lot anymore, I'm willing to bet." Clark stretched, laid his head in Lex's lap and wrapped a hand around Lex's thigh, snuggling in like a cat before closing his eyes. "I'm sure Bruce knew I was leaving before I did. I just thought I'd be leaving alone."  
Lex nodded, ignoring the fact that Clark couldn't see him do it, and stroked thick, dark, hair away from his face. Bruce wouldn't let Clark go like that unless…unless Bruce was ready to let him go, no matter what abilities Clark had that made him think he could leave Bruce. Or…there was always the possibility that Bruce was setting some kind of plan into action. Lex worried his lip between sharp teeth, thinking….He almost missed what Clark murmured into his skin.

"I'm not ever going to leave you, Lex. Never."

Clark said it with such deep quiet certainty, that it chilled, almost as much as the thought of Clark silently, suddenly leaving him, the way he'd left Bruce. "Never, Clark? That's…that's a long time."

"Not to us, Lex," Clark sighed, sounding so content. Pressed his cheek against Lex's leg and said, "Not to us."

"Clark…Clark…you confuse me, you scare me…and you make me so horny."

Clark turned his head a bit more, and bit the inner side of Lex's thigh. "Liar. If you really felt that way, you’d show me--right now."

"I'm not gifted the way you seem to be, freak. I need a little recovery time." In answer, Clark tilted his head up towards Lex, smirked, and then licked a circle around Lex's dick. "Shit, Clark…really…."

"Oh, all right." Clark sighed, put a giant hand on Lex's stomach and rubbed gently. "I'm so glad I checked to see if you were still alive, Lex. You looked so sad, so empty. I just—I wanted to make it better." He chuckled. "I had this odd desire to keep you—safe. And now, _I_ feel safe, safer than I've ever felt. Weird...wonderful. Isn't that the perfect way to end the story?" Clark asked.

Lex smiled. "Oh, trust me, Scheherazade, something tells me our story is just beginning."

1-03-2009  
~fin~


End file.
